


The Greatest Miscalculation

by Miraphina Atherton (mew_tsubaki)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Molly wasn't expecting this at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 22:50:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14924358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mew_tsubaki/pseuds/Miraphina%20Atherton
Summary: Molly thought she finally had the perfect family...





	The Greatest Miscalculation

**Author's Note:**

> The Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not to me. Read, review, and enjoy! Originally written for Beth.

She was the granddaughter Molly Weasley née Prewett had desired the most all these years.

With her bright grin and flowing, dark red hair, Catrin Melissa Weasley was the best thing that could've happened to the Weasleys. Amidst the horrors and woes of the Second Wizarding War and losing one of their own, it was so good to find a miracle in the little bundle Charlie carried in his arms upon his return home.

For so long, Molly and Arthur had debated the future of their second-eldest child. Bill, while eccentric, had always had a knack for making his own path, and he'd done well with his job and life and love. Though Fleur had taken some getting used to, they knew Bill, the eldest, the firstborn, was set.

Percy, though pigheaded and utterly stubborn, also had made a good life for himself. He'd always had a decent enough job at the Ministry, and when the war actually ended, newly appointed Minister Shacklebolt had made Percy his right-hand man. Percy had softened and tapped into the side of himself that resembled Arthur, and Molly had been delighted when Percy had returned to the nest. She knew that Percy would make a family when the time was right. She didn't know with what witch he'd make it, but he'd make it, all right.

George was an easier case. Out of the twins, Molly had always thought George would've been the one married first if he and Fred didn't have their weddings at the same time. Of course, such an idea flew right out the window when Fred fell on that one terrible night. But these days George looked as though his heart were beginning to mend, little by little, because Angelina surely was influencing him for the better.

Ron and Hermione were going to be engaged soon; Molly and Arthur had thought of it as soon as Hermione had announced she'd go back for her last year of school.

Ginny and Harry were the same way, though Harry would surely be more hardheaded than Hermione. Harry would never get away from the idea that those around him would always be in danger, despite him having practically rid the entire world of the biggest possible threat. But Ginny was a fiery gal like her mother, and she'd get Harry to succumb.

But, unlike their other children, Charlie had always been a curious case. He'd been dead-set on working with the creatures in the Dragon Plains from nearly day one, and, when he'd managed to secure a post in Romania, Molly and Arthur had thought there truly was no hope for him. He would be married to dragons…and that was that.

The twins had mused and teased Charlie, and then the Weasley parents began wondering. Was Charlie perhaps gay? He'd never dated much in Hogwarts… Tonks had been his best friend, but they would've heard something from Bill or Percy if Charlie had ever made her something more than a mate. Charlie, too, had loved his Quidditch team. Maybe he'd taken a different kind of liking to one of his teammates…?

Honestly, Molly had been wondering about Charlie right up until the day a while after the end of the war and Fred's funeral when Charlie showed up on the doorstep of the Burrow, looking wearier and paler than usual—odd, since the plains usually returned him tanned. But all her worries were gone when he showed her the cloth in his arms and she heard the little sounds and he passed her the bundle and, dear Merlin, it wasn't just a bundle of grungy-looking cloth. It was a baby. This baby had wisps of dark red hair and little freckles dotting her pinkish pale skin and—and—

This baby was _Charlie's_.

Almost immediately all Weasleys and potential Weasleys (Hermione, Angelina, and Harry, of course) congregated at the home in Ottery St. Catchpole. Questions flew left and right until Charlie quieted the house with his raised hand.

"All I have to say is this: Yes, Catrin is my daughter, my biological daughter. She can come into our family on the condition that no questions are asked—by anyone here, as well as by Catrin herself when she gets older."

It was such an awful thing to say, to do to Molly. But she bit her lip. _She_ was actually the one who kept _Arthur_ quiet. Because Charlie had that baby—her first grandchild, her sweet little granddaughter…and she didn't want to lose her as they'd lost Charlie. And, if this child really was Charlie's, then they'd always run the risk of losing her anyway when the time came to choose a job after school. Molly wanted that girl for as long as they could have her, so she accepted Charlie's terms on everyone's behalf.

And so Catrin Melissa Weasley came to live with her family.

For years, Charlie worked from home, opting to do paperwork instead of fieldwork during his daughter's early years. He was such a good father, and he surprised Molly and Arthur every day when they saw him with her. Never would they have dreamed Charlie could've been so spectacular. Never would they have dreamed Charlie would be the one to give Bill pointers when Fleur was pregnant with Victoire. It was just so… _surreal_. But, of course, all good things come to an end.

Once Catrin was of Hogwarts age, Charlie returned to his old job. Catrin didn't quite understand Charlie's reasons at first, but she gradually came to understand that they were better off if Charlie were working while she was learning. She only saw some of the family on the holidays, but, every school year, at the end when the Hogwarts Express rolled into King's Cross, Catrin would run to the matching red heads of hair, her black eyes gleaming, as she sought out her father. And, every year, without fail, Charlie would still be strong enough to pick her up and swing her around, making her shriek in delight, her laughter bouncing off the stone walls and catching everyone up in her excitement. Yes, Cat's laughter truly was infectious.

But Molly had always been bothered by her laugh…

Every time Molly heard her oldest grandchild's laugh, it set her teeth on edge. Molly never understood why. Even when Catrin was just relaxing with her cousins or helping her grandmother around the house, the sight of even her smile alone sent shivers down the Weasley matriarch's spine. She could never quite shake the thought that Catrin's smile was—was a _smirk_.

Catrin was everywhere, too, beloved by her family as not only the eldest but also as a helping hand whenever one requested it. Cat was a lot like Molly in many respects, but as Catrin grew older, Molly felt more and more sickened by the idea that they were similar in any way whatsoever.

It got to the point where Molly could find peace only when visiting Fred's grave. She'd quietly expose her musings to her fallen son, wondering what he'd make of all this, because even though Fred was a funnyman, he had always been very good at reading people, and he'd been smarter than he'd ever have admitted. But how smart would he have been at reading his own niece…?

Then the day came, a few years out of school, when Catrin's laugh sounded and Molly clenched her teeth and realization hit—

No. It _couldn't_ be.

But it was right there, so blaringly evident in its ugly beauty—Catrin's laughter was very much like her mother's. Her mother…

Bellatrix.

Black.

Lestrange.

It made perfect, morbid sense to Molly. Catrin's pale complexion, a contrast from her cousins' tan, normal, or pink tones. Catrin's liquid black eyes, unlike anyone else's in the whole family. And then Catrin's piercing, irresistible laugh…an _infectious_ one Molly now comprehended as a disease more than a little bug. Yes, Catrin had Bellatrix's laugh, a laugh that would forever haunt Molly, taunting her with the reminder of the kind of people who had wrecked her family from the start.

And so Molly Weasley snapped. It was just an outburst when Catrin and the others were outside, having a good time. But Molly couldn't tolerate one more second of that sound. No more laughter, none at all—she couldn't stand one more chuckle out of Catrin's throat.

No one figured out why Molly had snapped as she had, but when Charlie came home for the summer and someone—maybe Bill or Harry—mentioned to him what had occurred, Charlie had not needed to take Molly aside. All he'd done was met her eyes straight on and said nothing. He didn't have to; Molly knew. She just _knew_. And there Catrin was, wondering what she'd done wrong…never knowing…

She was the granddaughter Molly Weasley would despise the most for the rest of her years.

**Author's Note:**

> B) I'd been looking forward to writing this since the inspiration struck me ages ago. Oh, and for the original awesomeness of Catrin, she belongs to my pal, Beth, who gave me permission to write her. Bethie, you are awesome for creating Catrin! I hope I did her justice! :DDD
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please review!
> 
> -mew-tsubaki :]
> 
> 2017 note: Ignoring the possibility of fitting Catrin into the timeline of HBP/DH, I still enjoy this old fic quite a lot. So eerie…poor Molly. D:


End file.
